


As The Crow Flies

by EverydayAcolyte



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Antiva, F/M, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Pen Pals, Romance, Zevran Being A Bird Nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverydayAcolyte/pseuds/EverydayAcolyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warden Commander is a symbol of heroism and bravery. They saved Ferelden, and perhaps even all of Thedas, through the strength of their own will and perseverance. They are not invincible, however. Every once in awhile, after a dozen bloody days of battling darkspawn, after a 7-hour-long political dinner party, the Commander needs a break. During times like these, the Hero of Ferelden is known to slip a stack of tightly-bound letters from their pack, reading them until they regain the motivation to return to their duties.</p><p>These letters are rumored to be from a mysterious elven lover from Antiva, who misses his Warden very, very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Letter From Zevran

Greetings from Antiva!

I would prefer to be where you are, my sweet. Antiva is so dull without you to brighten it. Even with the Crows trying to hunt me down, this place lacks the excitement of being at your side. Ah, well. I expect the Guildmaster will agree to meet me soon. Or maybe I should kill him. What do you think?

I hear the darkspawn have still not gone away? They are like houseguests who overstay their welcome, no? I am saddened you have to deal with such business without me. I must deal with the Crows, but when I return to you, not even sharp razors will be able to separate us!

Until then, you remain in my dreams. Especially the naughty ones.

Yours always,

Z .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Delivered one week before the Warden's arrival at Vigil's Keep._  
>     
> This is a collection of letters I think Zevran would have wrote during the time he and the Warden were apart.  
> Spoilers for Awakening. Really, this is just some fun practice for writing from Zev's point of view.  
>   
> To start off, this first chapter is the codex 'A Letter From Zevran' that you recieve in-game, and from there on, it's purely fan-written.


	2. A Letter of Complaint

Greetings from Antiva!

I have received your letter regarding your arrival at Vigil’s Keep. The news of intelligent darkspawn is indeed concerning. I can’t help but wonder, what do their voices sound like? I always imagined the little genlocks to sound high-pitched, like tiny angry warblers. It would be highly amusing if I was proven to be correct.

What I am more concerned about, however, is how you were treated upon your reception at the keep. You had to fight through mobs of darkspawn simply to get inside, yes? While I have no doubt that you dispatched each one with ease, you shouldn’t have had to. You are the _Warden Commander_ , my dear. You deserve to be welcomed in by a red velvet carpet, solaced by a dozen of Ferelden’s finest minstrels, fed grapes by a dozen of the keep’s most attractive servants. As it is, the keep’s services are superbly lacking. Honestly, I’m thinking of writing them a letter of complaint.

But I digress. You say our dear friend Oghren has joined the Grey Wardens? I am surprised. I didn’t expect him to take such an initiative. While he is there, will you say hello to him for me? Although he is a rather revolting dwarf, I can’t help but miss him. Or perhaps I only miss him because during the time I knew him, I was with you. His incessant belching, though nauseating, reminds of the nights you and I would drink together in camp, sharing a single bottle of wine. If only I could send you a flask of Antivan liquor through the mail.

Speaking of which, I would not drink any of Oghren’s ‘ale’ if I were you. I am not sure what that vulgar stuff is made of, but if it is what I assume it to be, I do not want your lovely, delicate lips anywhere near it.

I only worry for you health and safety, amore mio.

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Delivered a week and a half after the Warden's return letter._


	3. A Letter of Tradition

Greetings from Antiva!

Remember that Guildmaster I was intending to arrange a meeting with? Well, I may have accidentally killed him. Unless, of course, you approve of his execution, in which it was a completely deliberate decision. Either way, the Crows have noticed. They had wanted me dead before. Now? They'll want me delivered alive. For the death of a Guildmaster, I will supposedly be punished with hours upon hours of pain and torture. But do not worry, my dear. They may have their scouts and suspicions, but they do not yet know where this enigmatic assassin-of-assassins resides. I am safe. For now, at least.

I have been searching for other former Crows the past few weeks, but it has proven to be extremely challenging. As to be expected. They wouldn’t have survived this long if they let themselves be found easily. I know there are more out there somewhere, waiting for a chance to strike back. I can’t be the only one.

I also know that there are current Crows that want out. It will be tricky, but I am hoping to smuggle some of the freshly conscripted recruits away from the organization sometime in the near future. I know, I know, I will be careful. It may seem like an unnecessary risk, but if I can prevent even one child from being thrashed upon a rack, it will have been worth it.

Your new Warden recruits are a colorful bunch, aren’t they? An apostate mage turned Warden isn’t hard to believe, but did you truly conscript Nathaniel Howe? Correct me if I am wrong, but is he not the son of Rendon Howe? As in, the son of the arl that we murdered in his own household? I will not judge your choices, as I trust in your intuition... but I would be careful. Sleazy politicians have the habit of raising sleazy little sons.

Then again, who am I to talk? You spared me mere minutes after I had attempted to stick a dagger between your ribs.You seem to have an odd habit of recruiting people that want to kill you. Mark my words, that is going to get you into trouble some day. 

And when it does, you can be sure that I’ll be there beside you, proof that your relentless persistence to redeem people was worth it.

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Delivered with a small square of cloth within the envelope. It has an Antivan-styled design on one side, presumably the patch of a Guildmaster._


	4. A Letter of a Lover

Greetings from Antiva!

I hope your mission is going well, mi amore.

The arl’s son has yet to betray you? Interesting. He may be less of a seedy rat than I initially thought. I would still be wary, as one always should be among mixed company, but perhaps he can be a reliable ally, given time. Nobles, even ones kicked from their perch, have been proven to be quite useful.

I wonder, do you ever talk about me to your companions? Or have you simply left it to their imagination? I mean, they obviously know that you are receiving mail from a lover, as whenever you get my letters you surely let out a high-pitched squeal and hug the parchment dramatically to your chest, yes? That’s how I assume you must react. It’s certainly what I sometimes feel like doing when I get one of your replies.

But do they know what _kind_ of lover you have? Because if they don’t, then you have an extremely viable opportunity in front of you. Just imagine, you could tell them anything! I could be an Orlesian duke, waiting for you in a grand castle, or maybe a Qunari spy, having left Ferelden to report back to headquarters. I could be a Tevinter magister, a Rivaini pirate, a dwarven king you seduced during your time in Orzammar! I should be something exotic, intriguing, a dashing figure veiled in mystery!

...Then again, an elven assassin from Antiva that is attempting to tear down the Crow hierarchy singlehandedly is already rather exotic, isn’t it? 

No matter, you may tell your companions whatever you wish. As long as it’s intimidating. Something that abstains them from getting any... _indecent_ ideas about you. Although I would not blame them. It is very challenging to keep a clean mind when around you, my dear. You are much too alluring for your own good.

Perhaps I _should_ be worried, hm? Your talk of this Anders makes him out to be quite a charming fellow. Should I fear him as competition for your heart? Will you become overwhelmed with loneliness one night, and without me there to comfort you, seek his company instead? If you do find yourself being tempted, know that I would forgive you, and that I would only ask for one thing: 

For you to write me what happened in extremely accurate and explicit detail.

I jest, of course. Although you are free to do as you wish, remember that hundreds of miles away there is a slightly miserable elf that misses you dearly. An elf that is also entirely willing to duel a dangerous apostate to win back your affections, should the need arise. It won't be said that I went down without a fight.

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There's a small note at the bottom of the page:_
> 
> _P.S. The plan to free the most recent recruits of the Crows is nearly ready. By my next letter, I will probably be sheltering a band of children. I am not worried. Compared to what I usually do, mere babysitting should not be too hard, right?_


	5. A Letter of Sudden Parenthood

Greetings from Hell!

I have extracted the young recruits from the Crows and currently have them inhabiting one of the cottages that I use as a safe house. They have been here for precisely two days and seventeen hours. Which is two days and sixteen hours too long, if you ask me. I thought looking after thirty-some children would be easy in comparison to my usual occupation of murdering people for money. I was severely incorrect.

How do normal civilians handle these infernal creatures? Like me, the Crows have tamed these striplings through fear tactics and torture. As such, you’d think they’d be more well-behaved. But no. Once they realized that I myself had no intention of hurting them or reprimanding them in such harsh ways, their obedience flew out the window before I could say “rotten little anklebiters”. They run about the house, screaming and shrieking and doing stunts that rival Alistair’s levels of foolishness. No Marco, you may not pick up a coal from the fire with your bare hands. Yes Anna, playing swords with real swords will most likely end with you getting stabbed in the spleen. No Ricardo, you may not “experiment” with my collection of poisons. Maker, an hour ago one of the tiny devils attempted to ride down the roof on a piece of driftwood. The older ones are slightly more intelligent, but they’re too suspicious of me and my motives of rescuing them to be obedient. I can only hope I'll find a place for them to go within the next few days. I don't predict that I could withstand any longer than that. 

I think I can actually relate to all those broodmothers you’re slaying. If the taint hadn’t made them go mad, the abundance of their ‘children’ would have.

In other news, I have cleared the small Crow sanctuary that I found the children in, and with it, I now am in possession of my own roster of messenger birds. Mostly made up of crows, of course. Assassins do love their themes. Perhaps in the future I will be able to send a gift or two in the mail, yes? I already have one in mind, but unfortunately I cannot take it out around the children. If they were somehow able to get their hands on it, I would never hear the end of it.

I suppose you’ll simply have to wait in anticipation, hm?

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The entire piece of parchment is sticky and smells faintly of jam, as if someone else had gotten hold of the letter while they were raiding a pantry. There is also an inexplicable burn mark on the left bottom corner._


	6. A Letter of Whimsy

Greetings from Antiva!

I hope your adventures as Warden Commander are going well. All of the companions you have recruited thus far sound like quite interesting characters, if not a bit concerning. A member of the Legion of the Dead? An exiled Dalish mage? A vengeful spirit possessing a corpse? You cannot conscript a single Grey Warden the normal way, can you? 

Ah, but you have always attracted the outcast types, so I shouldn’t be surprised. Our old companions during the Blight were a merry band of misfits themselves. I suppose that says something about myself.

The children have been placed in better, more experienced care. They would not be accepted into any local orphanages, nor would I want them to be, as none of the matrons wished to get on the Crows’ bad side by sheltering their former recruits. Do not worry; they are in good hands. They are safe, or at least a great deal safer than they would have been residing with me.

I know I claimed that having the children leave immediately wouldn’t have been soon enough, but to be honest, I think I may miss them. This place is too quiet now. Yes, it is a relief to not worry about the house being burned down when I come home from fetching groceries, but now there is no longer anyone to greet me when I arrive. I suppose that I have been living alone for such a length of time that I had forgotten what it felt like to be needed. As obnoxious as kids can be, they can also be endearing creatures. Before Marco left, he gave me a drawing of myself wearing a ridiculous crow costume. It was a crude piece of art. He overexaggerated many of my features, and it was a tad burnt around the edges, yet I still treasure it. I’m thinking of hanging it over my fireplace. I believe he would approve of the placement.

Anyhow, I have finally been able to send you your gift! If my messenger birds listened to my directions properly, you should be receiving it with this letter. I think you will find it an enjoyable read. Hopefully you can use some of the knowledge you gain from it the next time we meet, yes?

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A small package was delivered two days before this letter arrived, wrapped in thick paper and tied with string. Upon unwrapping it, it reveals itself to be a pocket-sized book of Antivan poetry and quips, specifically that of the dirty variety. There are translations written in the margins in flowing pen, as well as a large number of sidenotes filled with compliments and sentiments describing how much the translator cares for his Warden._


	7. A Letter of Aspirations

Greeting from Antiva!

I’ve heard of the politics occurring at Vigil’s Keep even two countries over. I’m sorry you have to endure such boorish trivialities, but with authority comes making nice with nobles and politicians. It is an unfortunate necessity. Remember, if any of them get out of line or particularly grate on your nerves, feel free to remind them that your lover is a skilled assassin. That should shut them up finely.

I would also like to apologize for the mess on this letter. Yes, the stains are blood. It seems there had been some left on my sleeves from my last target and dripped onto the parchment. Interesting story, that. A maid who was conspiring to dispatch her mistress. I was even able to confiscate the poison she was planning to use. Hyacinth extract. Would have made the death look like it was caused by an illness. It’s nasty stuff, as most poisons are. Should be useful in my possession, no? 

I would have scrapped this letter and written a new, less bloody one, but I’m afraid that I’m clean out of paper. Since when has a little blood bothered you, anyhow?

When I go to acquire more parchment tomorrow, I was thinking of purchasing a new set of armor. The leather I have now is getting soft, and has recently acquired a gash down the abdomen. Turns out that the maiden could defend herself. It was actually rather impressive. Since I’m buying a new set, I thought, why not go all out? If I’m going to spend the coin, I may as well commission myself a fresh, unique look. In fact, I was meditating on using the design Marco drew for me. The more I look at it, the more awesome and expertly designed it appears. I may have to make some realistic adjustments (feathers on armor goes poorly), but I believe that it will prove to be a fashion success. I will be bringing the drawing with me for reference. If successful in finding a willing smith, I'll be wearing the armor when you see me, whenever that may be.

Of course, I will still be wearing the boots and gloves you gifted me. Death itself would not be able to make me part with them.

Unless, of course, my corpse was looted, but let's disregard that possibility.

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The letter is splattered with dark stains, presumably from dried blood. It's smeared across, as if someone had hurriedly tried to wipe the blood away when they realized it had dribbled onto the paper. It only made the stain worse._


	8. Letters of Questionable Sobriety

Greetings from Antiva!

Or, more specifically, a festival in Antiva! The town I’m hiding in is celebrating the yearly harvest of the their vineyards. There is music, dancing, great barrels filled with spiced wine, and plenty of merry making. I will be refraining from the last recreation, however, as the one I would wish to make merry with is currently in Ferelden fighting darkspawn. Pity. 

No matter. I will replace the merry making with even more wine. An adequate substitute, yes?

I have commissioned my armor, as I said I would. The smith at first thought it was a joke, but after some gentle persuading, he came around. It should be done within the month. I’m rather excited, as I’ve never been able to commission an original armor concept before. Crows have some say in what they wear, but they still have to represent the organization exactly as the Guildmaster wishes. It leaves little room for imaginative outfits.

The stars are shining brightly tonight. The moon is clear and full. It comforts me to know that as far as we may be from each other, we are looking up into the same night sky. 

Yours always,

Z.

\-----

Greetings from Antiva.

I know I’ve sent two letters. Mi dispiace. I couldn't fit all I wanted to in the last one. I had to write.

This village is beautiful. Simple, but perfect in it’s simplicity. It reminds me of the towns I would pass as a Crow. I would always watch them go by as I rode on a carriage to my next target, wishing that for once I could stop and visit. To go someplace simply to go there, and not because it’s a job or a mission or a duty. Now I can. Because of you. You set me free from the Crow’s shackles. You made this possible. 

Have I ever told you how grateful I am? I believe I have, yes. Telling you once more won’t do any harm. Thank you, amore mio.

Antiva is a corrupt place, I do not deny it. It is filled to the brim with filth and poverty and thinly-veiled slavery of orphaned children. Still, on nights like these, with so many people singing and smiling and simply feeling the joy of life, I can forget about my country’s problems for a short while. Nights like these remind me of what I love about my home, its beauty and its worth. I do not regret coming back here. I do regret, however, coming back without you by my side. If given the chance, I will not make the same mistake again.

Yours until the end, 

Z.

\-----

Hello from Antiva!

I have made kind new friends at the festival! They saw me sitting alone and invited me to join them! They are very kind and gave me free wine! How kind!

Wait, I wrote kind too many times, didn’t I. Merda.

Anyway they saw that I was writing letters and told me to tell you hello, from them. They have treated me so well, it would be rude to deny their request, no?

Always yours,

Z.

\-----

Greetings!

It turns out that my new friends were not kind. It was a trik. They had been trying to assasinate me! The gall! 

Assassinate an assassin. Ridicullous. What is this country coming to.

They have been taken care of do not worry. I also made off with the rest of their wine. Cheers.

Anyway I have writen you a poem I thought you would like. You like poetry right? Here

I like your clothes  
and your pretty head  
but Id like you more without  
and in my bed

 

Without clothes, not without a head. That may have not bene clear enough. Its a rough draft. I’ll worck on it.

Yours all the time,

Z.

\-----

Ciao!

Your very bellimoma you kno that? ~~Bellismo~~ ~~Bellima~~ Cant spel right now.

Ti pennso. Mi manchi. Ti vogllio un momdo die bene. Ti voglio tanntto ben.

Un bacione!

Z

\------

My warden,

I miss you.

 

From,

Zevran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _These letters arrived within a span of four hours. Two have stains of wine, and one with what looks to be droplets of water._   
>  _There are now six messenger crows perched on the window sill, waiting to be fed._


	9. A Letter of Apology

Greetings from my den of shame!

I would like to apologize about the overabundance of letters I sent you last. I believe it is obvious that I had a bit too much wine that night. I do not remember everything I wrote, but I can recollect some sentimental ramblings and poorly written poetry. If I wrote anything foolish or embarrassing, blame the drink. Likewise, if I wrote something that touched your heart, I accept full responsibility of the letters.

I am attempting to track down who was trying to have me killed during the festival. I would presume it was the Crows, but I cannot make assumptions. As I have made new friends in Antiva, I have made new enemies as well. All in a day’s work as a freelance assassin. I may have more freedom with my choice of contracts as a former Crow, but I do not have the protection the Crows gave me for the contracts’ aftermath. I believe there may be a prince or two who would love nothing more than to see my head on a pike.

They’ll have to uncover my identity first, of course.

I have become famous here in Antiva. Or perhaps _infamous_ would be a better word. I have struck a harsh blow against the Crows, and as a result, I have started to crack the confidence Antivan civilians have in the organization. They are doubting their power. It is perfect. Like all vigilantes, the people have bestowed their own name to the mysterious person hunting the Crows: Black Shadow. A little moody for my taste, but as long as it intimidates my foes and inspires my allies, it will do nicely.

If the name is able to spread to Ferelden, I know that I have done my job. So keep an ear out for any name-drops, will you?

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The parchment has a hastily-drawn doodle of a tiny Zevran in the corner, wielding twin blades and wearing an odd if not thematically-fitting outfit. It looks crude and childish. There is also a sketch of the Warden's face hidden on the back. It is much more carefully drawn, and is surprisingly accurate._


	10. A Letter to Mother

dear madre,

Well then! Really, last week truly was an Inspiring siTuatIon, wasN’t it? Goodness, i never THought It would come to that. Seems like Theresa didn’t like the idea Of GETting left out in the rAin all niGht. Ultimately, i think that All is foRgiven. Deep dOwn, Few people have helped her like you have. Feeding her, housing her, Making sure she comes home safe everY night. Before you, she only hAd the streets. Could she be more grateful? yes. but remember that she does indeed respect you. Keep looking, and i promise that you will see it.

I AM poSitive thAt i will be able to make it For lunch. sEe you then.

ciao!   
z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Peculiarly, there is no extra comment, trinket, or picture accompanying the letter. It is also written on thin, cheap paper, rather than the tan vellum usually used. Low-quality ink makes the words dribble and blot. It would explain the capitalization errors._


	11. A Letter of Orlesian Couture

Greetings from Antiva!

Allow me to explain my absence, as well as the odd letter I last wrote you. No, I did not send it to the wrong person. You know as well as I that my mother has been long dead. You see, I had been arrested for theft, and I was only allowed to write to family members from inside jail. The guards read all of our letters before we were allowed to send them out, so I had to improvise. It is not one my best works, I admit. A child could break that code. Luckily, the guard that was assigned to my cell was much more skilled at beating a club menacingly into his palm than looking for hidden messages. I’d complain to the Antivan government that my tax money is being wasted upon hiring fools like him, but then it wouldn’t be so easy to escape. Also, I have neglected to pay taxes since before I left for Ferelden during the Blight. Indeed, tax evasion was one of my many crimes that authorities attempted to pin on me. I also have murder, conspiring for murder, resisting arrest, and most recently theft on my criminal records. Littering as well, but I swear to you that I was framed. I am not that kind of man.

I wish I could tell you that my thievery was some magnificent heist for a crown jewel. Unfortunately, it was not. 

I stole a hat.

Allow me to explain.

There had been a stall in the plaza that was run by a group of traveling Orlesian merchants. They had been all around Thedas, and all of their goods were, as with any merchants selling in Antiva City, ludicrously exorbitant. Two platinum for a hat? It was public burglary. It was a wrong that I needed to right. For justice, of course.

I was careful. I waited until the merchants’ backs were turned and hid the lovely thing under my cloak before anyone could notice. What was concededly less careful was how I paraded around with it atop my head once I was a few blocks away. It turns out that the hat had been already purchased by some lady or duchess or other pretentious title and that it only had to be picked up. To cut an embarrassingly long chase-scene short, I was arrested. I knew they would catch me some day. I just didn’t expect it to be because of a hat. It seems lost hats are more punishable than lost lives. Orlesians.

In all honesty, I had the money. What I didn’t have was the time. They were leaving the next day, and I simply needed it. It was perfect. Not for me. Oh no. It was perfect for _you,_ my warden. Once you see it, you will understand. Are sunhats popular down there? No matter. If they aren’t now, they will no doubt be the next trending ‘thing’ once the populace sees their mighty Warden Commander looking undoubtedly riveting in one. Mark my words, mi amore. You will be a pioneer of Ferelden fashion.

Despite a few bruises and cuts, I am safe. I hope the same can be said for you.

I am sure you will look as lovely in the hat as I imagined you would. Perhaps some night it can be all you are wearing, yes?

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A package arrived an hour after the letter, a sturdy purple hat box with a golden ribbon keeping it shut. Inside is an ornate white sunhat with similar ribboning. Upon closer inspection, fine threads of gold glimpse out from between its weave. The way it gleams when the sunlight hits it is almost reminiscent of how Zevran described the Antivan shores to be. It must be a coincidence._


	12. A Letter of Yearning

Greetings from Antiva!

According to the smith, ~~my costume~~ my armor should be done by next week. Perfect timing, as I will have an opportunity to take out another House Arainai member soon. If they shall call me ‘Black Shadow’, I may as well look the part, yes? There is a certain humor that the one wearing the most crow-like attire will be the former Crow. I find it to be deliciously ironic. 

It has been quite awhile since I have last regarded my fellow house members. They raised me, trained me, molded much of what I am today. We were like a family, if families purchase their children, torture their younger siblings, and force them to murder others for money. So a slightly dysfunctional family, perhaps. Still, they threw the absolute best birthday parties. I remember a time that they had a prostitute pop out from a giant cream cake for the House Master’s birthday. It was soured slightly as I knew the woman personally, but ah, it was truly a sight to behold. Frosting went _everywhere._

Speaking of Master Eoman Arainai, I was thinking about him the other day. Or, more specifically, his death. It was true serendipity that he traveled to Ferelden mere months after the Blight ended. And without you, I never would have been able to catch him. I don’t know how you did it, but you pulled strings that I didn’t even know existed. I suppose being the Hero of Ferelden does have its perks. Please allow me to thank you again for your assistance. I would claim that my need to kill him derived from the completely selfless plan of terminating the Crows, but both of us know that is untrue. He was, you could say, the father of our little family. It was personal. Without you at my back, I do not believe I could have done it. So thank you, mi amore.

Thank you for being there. Thank you for always being there. Even when we are a sea away, you continue to give me the strength to persevere. I know that you are fighting a hard battle right now. You are once again stuck in the middle of a war. I also know that you are entirely willing to sacrifice yourself if it means saving others. I cannot stop you, but if the situation arises that you feel you must give your own life for your duty, please try to find any other option first. I would rather not be made a widow.

Ah. Here I am, fussing like an old woman. I blame it on how long it has been since I’ve seen you last. Try as I might, I cannot help but yearn. It seems you have made a lovestruck fool of me. I hope you are proud of your handiwork. I know that I am.

I will end this letter by simply telling you to stay safe, and to know that at any time, for any reason, I am only a ship ride away.

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There is a physical heaviness to the letter. Tucked in the corner of the envelope jangles a silver ring, studded with emerald and emblazoned with the Arainai crest. A small note is tied to it, reading as such:_
> 
> __
> 
> _"This was Eoman's. I've already given you the jewelry of one lifechanging contract. I thought I should perhaps make it a tradition."_


	13. Letters of Concern

Greetings from Antiva!

The armor is as beautiful as I thought it would be. If you could see me now, my dear, I feel as though you may not be able to control yourself. Truly, it accentuates all my curves and edges rather expertly. My experiences with you have humbled me, but I cannot help but feel vain while wearing this. The smith even found a way to make a mask that looks like a crow skull. At least, I think that it’s a mask. If I discovered that there are giant crows living somewhere in Thedas, I wouldn’t be all that surprised. There’s already talking werewolves, rhyming trees, hordes of undead, and sentient stone statues. A horse-sized avian would not be improbable.

Of a more pressing matter, I hope that you are doing well. You wrote me last that you feel like something terrible is about to happen. I would assuage your fears and say it’s merely paranoia, but you are a Grey Warden that is fighting an army of darkspawn. Gut instincts should usually be heeded. It is, quite literally, in your blood. I wish I could be there when the nightmares come. The best I can do is try to comfort you through my letters, which is disappointingly lacking. I wish I could do more.

Just remember that you are surrounded by people who respect you. And after months staying at Vigil Keep, I have no doubt that at least a handful have grown to love you as well. We are here, and we are willing to fight tooth and claw, I can promise you that. If you feel a final battle arising, do not hesitate to send for me.

You are in my thoughts, as always. Notably the dirty ones. But you creep into most others too.

Yours always,

Z.

\-----

Greetings from Antiva!

I have not heard back from you for awhile. I understand that you’re busy and you have many duties to attend to. If you couldn’t find the time to write back, I understand. But the things I hear going on over there… They make me fear for you, mi amore. I hope you can understand my concerns and I am not coming off as the clinging, hysteric lover. 

Not much has occurred over here. I am getting closer to a date with a formerly fellow Arainai. If the date ends well, she will be coming back to my room with me, we’ll have a little wine, and she will be dead within the hour. I think I may have to devise a new poison for the night, however. Most of the ones that are currently in my possession are also ones that Crows are immunized to as well. This woman is no fresh greenhorn. She has been in the Crows longer than I have. If I am immune to it, I am sure she is too. I suppose I must simply view it as a compelling challenge. 

If you have any fun ideas, please, tell me. Perhaps you shall be my poison-making muse. You have always been an inspiration to me, after all.

Please write back as soon as you are able.

Yours always,

Z.

\-----

I heard what happened at Vigil Keep and at Amaranthine. The casualties haven’t been determined yet, but there is numerous, I know that much.

 

~~I must know that you~~  
~~I must~~  
~~I can’t imagine wh~~  
~~Please be aliv~~

Please write back.

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The last letter came without an envelope. It is crinkled and bent, as if someone had hurriedly thrust it into their pocket after writing it. The script is messy and erratic print, unlike the neat cursive of the first two._


	14. A Letter of Awareness

Greetings from Antiva!

Thank the Maker that you are safe. The relief I felt when I received your letter was nearly incomparable. The only time that I’ve felt more relieved was seeing you open your eyes after the slaying of the Archdemon. Neither have been enjoyable ordeals.

Twice I’ve thought that I’ve genuinely lost you. That is two times too many. If these experiences have done anything, however, they have made me realize how precious you are to me. Of course, I always know that you are precious to me. I know that every single day. Yet sometimes I think that I almost desensitize to it all. Even after years and years of indifference, I have already grown accustomed to you being a steadfast constant in my life. You have spoiled me rotten, mi amore. To be able to wake up and see your face, or receive one of your return letters… I had nearly forgotten how it was before I had that. Before I had you. Then, when I heard what had happened with the darkspawn, and you weren’t replying... I was forced to consider my world existing if you were not a part of it. I couldn’t.

It is times like these that make me realize how integral and important you are to me. Ti amo, my warden. Sei la mia vita. Sei la mia per sempre. I will not forget it.

On a more lighthearted note, I hope that your traveling goes well. It is not a beleaguering journey from Ferelden to Antiva, but seasickness is a very real, very terrible thing. Even I sometimes still feel queasy if I’m aboard a particularly rocky ship. I hope your travels prove to be without conflict. Perhaps there will even be an elf waiting for you on the port, one hand open to you and the other with a bottle of strawberry wine. 

Unless, of course, I make you find me instead. You know that I am in Antiva City, but you have none of my specific whereabouts. Perhaps I will make a game of it, hmm? You always seemed to enjoy the chase. You follow the clues that I give you, and when we finally meet, we will have a great showdown in the plaza, proving our honor to each other. Then we will retire to the nearest inn and I will spend hours upon hours making up to you the time we have lost. It is a grand plan, no?

I impatiently await your arrival.

Yours always,

Z.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This letter came faster than usual, as if the writer had written this reply the moment he received the previous response. There is an address written on the bottom of the paper. It directs to an offshore bakery, presumably the first destination of the 'game'._


	15. A Letter of Waking

Greetings from downstairs!

Good morning, mi amore. You performed rather impressively yesterday. I hadn’t seen that kick coming. You must have trained ardently since I last sparred with you. And last night, that thing you did with your tongue? I do not know when or where you learned that, but I am very appreciative that you did. Beautifully done on both accounts, as always.

I have a pot of coffee and a box of pastries I require assistance in finishing. Come down when you are awake.

I love you.

Yours always,

Zevran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This letter is pinned to the bedroom door with a dagger._
> 
> _The air is thick with the aroma of Antivan coffee. The window next to the bed has been propped open, allowing the morning sunlight to creep across the sheets. Soft humming can be heard._


End file.
